


Mother Knows Best

by DigitalMoriarty



Series: Mama Hela [2]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hela's a Good Mom, I made an AU of my own AU, Loki is a mama's boy, Mama Hela, Mentions of a bunch of characters - Freeform, Not enough to list them as fandoms I think, Odin's A+ Parenting, Supervillain Mom, The PTA is Doomed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-17 17:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13081383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalMoriarty/pseuds/DigitalMoriarty
Summary: Hela knows, 'mother knows best'. And Karen at the PTA can just shut up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote my Mama Hela fics. And then my datemate and I were talking and the idea of Aggressive PTA Mom Hela appeared. And then I said I wouldn't write this fic. And then this happened.

Officially, they had once been the rulers of an alien empire, who looked down upon the troubled Earth and decided to aid them.

 

About half of that is true.  


They had certainly once been the rulers of an alien empire, but then her father got bored of conquering everyone in the vicinity and looked around for a suitable summer home and oh look, his version of a soap opera had an opening for smug bastards with what counted as superpowers. And he plonked down what passed for a cabin in a bunch of empty turf and set about doing Good Works.  


They'd spent millennia expanding their empire by violence and trickery and outright lying and she was expected to suddenly stop?  


It was perfectly understandable that she'd try to take over Earth.  


Apparently not everyone agreed with her.  


Which is why she'd been thrown into a theoretically maximum security prison, busted her way out, and very sensibly gone into hiding.  


Hela Odinsdottir was the heir to the golden throne of Asgard thank you. She didn't wear tacky orange jumpsuits.  
  
And she'd been going by Hela Wiseman in a lovely little gated community somewhere in suburban... somewhere America when she'd seen  "Odin of Asgard and his wife Freya the Fierce defeated the alien menace Laufey today-" on the TV.   


She clicks it off before she has to listen to more.  


Hela knows her father. Knows he loves trophies. And this time, she's going to steal it from him. They'd never been able to defeat Jotunheim and killing their king? When they weren't even going to claim their realm? Ha.  


It turns out, he'd stolen two trophies this time.  


She'd known she had a brother now (Because of course she did. Her father had dropped her mother ages ago and of course the replacement was going to give him a blue eyed blonde to grow 'outside the flow of time' into another brave member of the perfect alien crime fighting family)  but sneaking in (honestly, he hadn't even changed the locks) she'd seen the Casket of Ancient Winters, the greatest treasure of the Jotun and... a tiny blue baby.  


And she knows her father.  


So she steals the baby.  


She'd never planned on being a mother, but in the name of spiting her father she's going to be the best damn mother Earth has ever seen. And she is going to take over this stupid dirtball and off dear old dad and go back to Asgard and remind the galaxy of just who's in charge.  It's good to have long term goals.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every child has a favorite bedtime story. This is Loki's.

"This is something you already know little one but-"

 

Earth's 'Mightiest Heroes' never stood a chance. Before Daddy Dearest went on his rebranding spree, she'd been known as the Goddess of Death. A man in a flying tin can and a scientist with anger management issues weren't going to cause much of a problem, now were they?  
  
And it had felt so goooooood to use her powers for their intended purpose. She'd faked an okay from her father to get Asgard's doorman to send her down Fenrir ("He'll scare them Hela, and we don't want that. Leave him behind.") and with her beloved steed and her weapon (not her soldiers. She'd never have been able to get that past Heimdal) she'd set about doing what Asgard was good at. What she was good at.

Sowing chaos and destruction across whatever land had the bad fortune to come to their attention.

From Fenrir's back, she'd pulled on Asgard's strength (her strength) to sweep aside anything that dared stand against her.  
From Fenrir's back she stormed across nations, leaving glorious rivers of blood in her wake.  
From Fenrir's back, she wrapped the green flame of her power around the corpses and brought them back to life to serve her purpose.  
From Fenrir's back she fell when her father sent his fucking spear through her shoulder.

Because of course he'd forgotten. Of course he'd been ashamed. Of course he'd want to wash away their past with smiles and lies.

She had been his greatest weapon, his greatest general, his greatest prize.

And now... Now she rips out his spear and casts it aside and tries to get back to Fenrir only for blasted blasted Heimdal to yank him from her, replace her precious puppy with some of Asgard's finest warriors.

But not her soldiers, not her private forces, bastards loyal to the lies her father is peddling.

But she is Hela and she will not go down so easily.

Except between her father and his wife (not her mother. Never her mother) and their troops and his bloody horde of stupid Midgardian "heroes", she does go down.

She goes down and is muzzled so she cannot scream her rage and she is cuffed and she is dragged before a judge. A JUDGE as if any of them is worthy of judging her. Odin lies his ancient ass off, as he has so many times before. Except this time he's lying about her and them and Asgard.

All she can do is glare and vow vengeance in the middle of the white hot storm of her hatred.

She is Hela, Goddess of Death and how. dare. they.

They haul her away in chains, put her in a prison.

Lock her in a cell, smaller than her closet back in the palace in Asgard.

She is in solitary confinement, just like every other bastard in this place, this 'Maximum Security Detention Facility For Powered Individuals'. Dumped on a platform on some sorry excuse for a derrick above some watery garbage heap in the middle of an otherwise empty patch of ocean because this realm can't even keep that tidy. Specially designed cells for each one of them, theoretically secure against anything they might attempt. And living quarters for their 24/7 guards.

And she vows, in the middle of the white hot storm of her hatred, that she will get free of this place.

She must be patient, behind the magical bars with the magical chains ready for her with the guards with magical cattle prods.

She and all the others stuck here. She learns their names, mostly by accident.

Victor von Doom. Erik Lensherr. Madame Hydra (who apparently must be kept far from Mr. Lensherr or else he tries to rip her face off with his bare hands). Ultron. Benjamin Poindexter. Norman Osborn. Red Skull (who Mr. Lensherr must not be informed is in the same facility). Harleen Quinzel and Pamela Isley (who are housed next to each other, by special request from someone higher up). Lex Luthor.

A whole place, filled with some of the most dangerous and deadly people the world had to offer.

Hela is not the most cunning person. She knows this about herself. She has always preferred the glorious brute force option. Why beat around the bush when you can simply set it on fire?

But she can be cunning, if she needs to be.

So she waits until just the right moment.

And then she passes Pamela Isley a note, through the simple expedite of a properly timed paper airplane. It's amazing what you can learn from guards who think you're powerless.

 

Then, when Isley is pulling the grain from Hela's lunch into service as truly impressive weaponry (she will have to make use of her, when she's on the throne) she says the magic words "Oh, hello Johann Schmidt!" as loudly as she can, and hears the way metal far beyond his usual range shakes from Lensherr's rage (another one she'll have to make use of).

With the entire facility in massive disarray, she throws every single bit of her carefully hoarded power at the weak point she has carefully been wearing (over weeks and months and possibly years. Who can tell in this miserable boredom filled hell?) into the spells keeping her so thoroughly bound to this place.

And then she bolts through the chaos (she is used to battlefields, this is not so different) and out to freedom.

She doesn't dare strike again. Not so soon. She must gather her power again. She must be patient. But a general knows about patience.

So she finds herself just the right hiding place and bides her time.

Is still biding her time.

"The only time I crept from hiding was to steal you, my little one. And you were very worth it."

(The story of his mother is one which never fails to make her little Loki smile. "And one day, we'll rule Asgard together, won't we darling? Oh yes we will. You and Mommy are going to kill your granddaddy and get Mommy alllll her power back and then we are going to make these stupid people suffer for what they did, won't we?")


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playground drama gets a little more exciting when you add technical-aliens. (Also, parenting books are full of nonsense if you ask Hela)

She gets Loki an image inducer before she takes him to the park the first time.

 

She wants to be a good mother, mostly out of spite. (She does a lot of things out of spite. She sees nothing wrong with this. Spite is a _wonderful_ motivator) She reads any number of parenting books and chucks half of them at the wall, sets two thirds of them on fire and only rarely finds anything worth retaining. But she _does_ pick up a few things. Be your child's greatest defender. Support their interests. Hitting is Very Very Bad. Make sure to give them access to hobbies and opportunities to learn. Model actions and behaviors you want them to emulate.

 

Hela had had a… unique upbringing. She is not going to give her child the same one she had, thank you. She's going to give him a _better_ one. And her HOA keeps a pretty little playground in a pretty little park that not a cent of her dues go to. (Because she doesn't pay them. She had had a… visit… with the president and magically there wasn't a peep from them). Other mothers brought their children there and it was just the place for her darling little Loki to make friends.

 

(Really, she dared anyone to look into those red eyes and feel the frostbite chill of his little fingers grabbing and not love him.)

 

It did not go well.

 

Honestly, the inducer had been quite expensive and made him look like the perfect little black haired green eyed little boy and she had taken considerable delight in dressing him in a little black skirt and a cute little jacket with horns on the hood. It had not, unfortunately, prevented him from being a _Jotun_ underneath. Besides, the other children had been atrocious from the first, attempting to demand he share his toys which, _really,_ had they been taught no manners? And then _one_ of them had had the temerity to knock down a small sand fort he'd been building (and really, he was the perfect child, she'd seen him attempting to figure out how to put in murder holes and appropriate defenses). She was in the midst of speaking to the horrible brats' mothers when she heard the scream. Her little one had apparently wanted to play on the swings. And _something_ had occurred while her back was turned and now one of the hellions was shrieking and clutching at a hand with blackened fingers.

 

It was the natural result of a foolish human touching Jotun skin and she _had_ taken suitable precautions. It was hardly _her_ fault the wretch had gotten stage three frostbite. His mother was truly obnoxious in her shrieking, as if it was her sweet son's fault. Pah.

 

She vowed she would find somewhere _better_ and _more supportive_ for her precious child to play. ...Failing that, she would build him his own playground. She _was_ still in contact with a few… old friends, surely one of them could provide her with suitable playmates.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you can't make your own friends, store bought is fine.

She goes through every playground in the area before she announces to her darling boy that since none of them were fit for him, she would  _ make  _ him one.

 

(There probably would have been trouble about the whole frostbite and amputations thing but Hela had pulled a bit of her power to her and for  _ some  _ reason every last one of those mothers had shut right up. Besides, it had been their own fault. She had made sure her son was suitably garbed to prevent accidental freezing. If their brats had made trouble it was on them)

 

Officially, the HOA has rules against the sort of thing she constructs. 

 

Just as officially she could not give less of a fuck.

 

And Hela giving not a single fuck won out over the HOA. It always did.

 

There is a jungle gym and a sandbox and swings and everything a happy little boy could want and not a single wretched hellion to push him over or demand he share his lovely toys or kick over his sand castles.

 

Of course, the Parenting Exceptional Children book (which was a bunch of nonsense. She had had hopes, because her stolen son was very exceptional. But it had mostly been about unusually intelligent children. Which her son also was. But that was an entirely different matter) had had a lot to say about peer groups and friends and all of that. And she had  _ attempted _ to join a 'Single Mothers Support Group' which had gone… poorly.

 

(In her defense, they'd deserved it.)

 

But she  _ did  _ want her child to have friends his own age. So she made a few calls. And then little Bobby Drake, brown haired and brown eyed and bright smiling and  _ immune from frostbite _ is delivered for weekly playdates. She does not bother to have Loki wear his image inducer. Little Bobby is a mutant and meeting someone blue is the not the weirdest thing he's likely to have seen in his four years upon the Earth.

 

Of course, Magneto had wanted her support in eventually ensuring mutant supremacy which, really, of course she'd been  _ happy _ to help with. Mutants would make much better soldiers in her future armies than humans.

 

However a much greater potential problem was looming upon the horizon. 

 

_ Preschool. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not Hela's fault that the foods she's used to are so much better than the ones here on Earth. Or that foolish humans are unwilling to admit the superiority of her baking.

The Bake Sale had been a challenge, and Hela never backed down from a challenge.

 

Oh, she doubted they'd known they'd  _ issued  _ the challenge, but that wasn't important.

 

The Bake Sale was to raise money for… something. She hadn't been paying attention at the time, more interested in staring down Janice, who had dared to imply that  _ her _ Kelly-Anne was somehow a better student than Hela's Loki.

 

But she'd heard the words "-little contest-" and said, with a speed that would have made Katniss Everdeen proud (if Hela had known who that was), "I volunteer."

 

She got the information later. Whoever's treats raised the most money won the contest. And Hela had never been one for cooking. That's what servants were for. But she'd been getting better, for Loki's sake.

 

Which was what had led them to now. 

 

Wearing matching "Kneel Before The Cook" aprons, Loki standing on stool so he could help her more easily and ignoring the cookbooks she'd acquired in favor of attempting to recreate the delights that the cooks in far off Asgard had produced to honor their victories.

 

It was more difficult than anticipated (Hela was the Goddess of Death thank you, not Goddess of Cooking) but with Loki's delighted help she managed to create a rather serviceable version of one of Asgard's more common desserts. Quite impressive given that Midgard lacked half the necessary ingredients.

 

The prices were uniform, to ensure a 'fair' contest, and Hela looked with disdain upon the cookies and cupcakes and brownies that others had brought. Her treats would easily win against such peasant fare.

 

(That was the last Bake Sale the PTA of that school held)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, but I figured I'd let your minds fill in just what Hela did when she lost the Bake Sale contest.


End file.
